


Last Chance Girl in a First Dance Swirl

by stardust_and_sunlight



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: (was Maura16), Alternate Universe - Dance, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/F, cute nerds, idk what this is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2018-05-22 07:25:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6070390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardust_and_sunlight/pseuds/stardust_and_sunlight
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She danced like it was her last chance, like she never would again. She danced like her heart was breaking.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Last Chance Girl in a First Dance Swirl

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know anything about ballet and I don't know what this is but I'm struggling a bit with life and I wanted to just post this... I might write some more in this arc, idk, I just love my tiny nerd babies??  
> The title comes from [Milk and Money](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fH4KCaeEiSQ) by the Fratellis.  
> Hope you enjoy this!

Éponine stepped out onto the dim stage, heart in her mouth, dreadfully aware of the silence pressing down on her, the darkness creeping in as the sun set outside. The place was threadbare and old and underwhelming when there was no-one there. The red curtains, so resplendent when the stage was set and the seats were full, were hanging limp and drab, haphazardly pulled to the side. There were bits of set scattered across the stage, a discarded ballet shoe with a hole in the toe wedged in the branches of a fake tree, ratty ribbons trailing.

The darkness was good, really. Éponine couldn’t see the empty seats, couldn’t see the lack of audience. She could barely see the stage, only a few dim yellow lights illuminating the area. She hadn’t wanted to turn on any bright lights, in case someone noticed, but this was fine. If she closed her eyes and imagined, she could see the lights and hear the music and she raised her arms and she _danced._

She danced like it was her last chance, like she never would again. She danced like her heart was breaking (well. It sort of was.) She danced with the passion and the love and the emotion that she couldn’t show in front of people. And she danced desperately, whirling across the stage in a flurry of perfect sweeping movements.

She didn’t notice she was crying until she felt a drop land on her collarbone and realised her face was wet, but she kept dancing, unwilling to break the moment, legs and arms screaming in pain as she twirled and stretched her limbs, fluid and controlled.

And the music built in her head and she was soaring with it and she was free and flying and then-

And then she shuddered to a halt and almost tripped up because the music wasn’t in her head it was fucking _real,_ and she stared down at the dark orchestra pit and there was one spot of light that hadn’t been there before.

“What the fuck?” she said, stepping forward and peering at the shadowy figure. “Who is that?”

“I’m sorry,” a voice said guiltily, and then another light flickered on and the shadow resolved into a short, chubby girl in an adorable blue and white dress, with angelic blonde curly hair and dimples, twisting her hands and looking at the ground.

“I’m sorry,” she said again, finally meeting Éponine’s incredulous gaze. “I just sit in here sometimes when I’m sad,” and she blushed at her own words, “and you were dancing and you looked sad too and it was so beautiful and such lovely dancing deserves an accompanist...”

She looked away again. “I’m so sorry,” she said, her voice a whisper.

Éponine sighed, walking towards the edge of the stage and sitting down, her legs swinging. “It’s fine,” she said softly. “It’s not like anyone else would ever play for me.”

The girl looked quizzically up at her and Éponine smiled, a twist of the lips with no humour in it. She patted the stage beside her, and when the girl didn’t take the hint, she reached out her hand, and finally understanding, the other girl pulled herself up onto the stage beside her.

“No-one wants to hire me, my parents forced me to dance and then capitalised on my success and dumped me when I stopped getting jobs, the girl I loved punched me when she found out how I felt, and I had my last chance at an audition today and I fucked it up.”

There was silence in the dim auditorium, and then the girl shifted slightly, pressing her shoulder against Éponine’s, a comforting pressure.

Éponine looked down at their arms pressed together, her own dark and the other girl’s pale.

“I’m Éponine,” she said finally, and the girl turned and beamed at her, a smile that lit up her face.

“I’m Cosette,” she said, and Éponine couldn’t help but smile back.

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on [twitter](https://twitter.com/holIyshort) -come and say hi!


End file.
